


Thicker Than Our Own Blood

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Family of Rogues [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Incest, Mentions of miscarriage, Mick Rory is a Softie, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: This is a mess.She doesn't know how Lenny's gonna take it, and it terrifies her. She always, always knows what Lenny is thinking; this blank is a bullet in her heart.When she gets home, she drops her bag and jacket, kicks away her boots and waits for Len to emerge from the kitchen. He's on the phone, but as soon as he sees her he instantly knows something is off."I'll call you back, Mick," he mutters without taking his eyes from Lisa, then closes the call. "What-""We need to talk," Lisa begins before he can ask what's wrong.Len scowls. "That's never a good premise."





	Thicker Than Our Own Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains sibling incest. Don't like? Don't read. Comment moderation is on, so you can spam and tell me I'm sick all you like, it's going to get filtered. You're warned.

"You should have come to me sooner, Lise."

Lisa sits back in her chair in front of the desk and groans at the doctor's stern expression. Erika is an old friend (also ex girlfriend, incidentally) and she knows Lisa isn't the sort of person to worry too much about minor illnesses such as colds, coughs or flus.

"I thought I could handle this," Lisa says in a whiny childish tone that nearly breaks Erika's professionalism. Maybe the Doc is right, this time: Lenny rode out his own flu in a matter of days; Lisa should have asked herself some questions after the first week of vomiting and constant exhaustion.

Erika gives her a serious look though her glasses. "You thought you could handle this," she repeats, arching a brow. "And you had to lose _eight pounds_ in two weeks to realise something was wrong? This was unforgivably irresponsible, even for you!""

Lisa stubbornly purses her lips, but there's a guilty pang in her chest. Lenny is very concerned about her and it's mainly because of him that she decided to come to Erika. She doesn't like hospitals and doctors (a remnant of her childhood abuses) but Ree is different and makes her feel at ease, even though viruses aren't exactly her field.

"Can't you just prescribe me something for the nausea?" Lisa asks hopefully. She's positive that if only she could keep down a square meal her physical conditions would considerably improve.

Erika's black eyes flare dangerously: "I sure as hell will, since you're going to have to deal with it for at least another couple of months."

"Stomach bugs don't last that long," huffs Lisa. For some reason, this prompts a hearty laugh from Erika, who leans across the desk and, with an indignant, almost pitiful shake of her head, says:

"Wake up, sweetheart: it's not a bug. You're pregnant."

What Lisa just heard can't be what Ree actually said.

The world stops. She holds her breath.

Erika is kidding. She must be, because there is absolutely _no way_ Lisa can be...

"Very funny," she snaps in a sour tone, but Erika isn't impressed: very calmly, she picks up a folder and hands it out to Lisa. It's the results of her blood test.

Lisa scans the paper and when she reaches the hCG she freezes: aside from the iron, which is a little low, it's the only value that doesn't match the standards. It's higher than normal, and unfortunately Lisa knows what that translates into.

She raises her eyes from the folder and lets out a weak laugh. "Ree, this test can't be right, come on."

Her forcibly playful tone doesn't sound convincing even to herself.

"Yeah, I mean," Erika takes off her glasses and eyes Lisa sarcastically. "Medical labs fuck up plenty of blood tests every day, I'm sure there's a mistake." She offers a patronising smile. "Don't worry if in a few months you're round as a basketball, that'll probably be a mistake, too."

The folder slips from Lisa's hand and fall to the floor as Lisa takes a hand to her mouth and the other to her stomach. She's about to be sick.

Fortunately, Erika's experience has trained her to respond promptly to this sort of reaction and when Lisa turns to her side to throw up there is trashcan waiting.

Ree brushes back her hair and rubs her back soothingly as Lisa retches bitter bile and what's left of the two sorry crackers she munched for breakfast, then instructs Lisa to take deep breaths, offers her a paper towel and helps her straighten up.

"Shit," Lisa mumbles between her teeth. She's breathing hard; the vomiting brought tears to her eyes, her throat burns. This isn't what she expected to hear when she turned to her old friend.

"Serves you right for underestimating your symptoms," Erika sighs sympathetically. Two seconds later, she's pushing a couple of small jars towards Lisa. "This is folic acid and this is iron," she announces, pointing at one and then the other. "One of each every morning until you figure out what you want to do, then we'll see. You have two more months to decide."

This is too quick, too harsh...

Lisa fumbles for words, looks up at Erika as panic surges inside her. She suddenly wishes Lenny was here, so that she wouldn't have to _tell_ him. What is she even going to say? It's not like they ever considered _this._

"Wait," she tries to reason, focusing on what Ree just said: _two more months to decide._ "This means-"

Erika sits on the desk and looks at her the same tender way she used to look at her when Lisa was a nineteen-year-old rebel trying to impress the elegant young doctor she was dating.

"You're four weeks along, honey."

Four weeks.

She's been uselessly gulping down aspirins for _four damn weeks_ when all she had to do to figure out what was wrong with her was take a stupid pregnancy test.

She feels she's going to be sick again.

"Fuck."

*

She's been pregnant before. It didn't last long, thanks to her father's _lessons._

She found out at the ER, when the nurse told her all the blood and the pain were due to an ongoing miscarriage. There was nothing to be done.

Len held her through that hell of a night, wiped her tears, squeezed her hand when it hurt the most. He told her he was glad Dad hadn't known about the baby, because if he had he would have killed her.

Lisa was only sixteen.

After that, she promised herself she would never be so stupid again.

After that, Len made her grab everything she could and took her away, never to return.

And now, almost twenty years later, it's like she's that stupid teenager again, lost and terrified and too shocked to even _think._

What's Lenny going to say?

This is too fucked up, even for them. Being in a relationship with your half sibling was daring enough already, but _a baby?_ How can they survive this? How is this not going to break them apart?

More than anything else, Lisa is afraid of losing Len.

They've always been extremely scrupulous with their precautions, which is why this is twice as shocking and unacceptable. Lisa and the pill don't go well together (too many side effects, on the pill's side, and too much love for alcohol on Lisa's side), but they've had unprotected sex only about three times in a year, a none of these was recently enough to match the conception date.

Her stomach twists as the word _conception_ reverberates in her mind.

This is a mess.

She doesn't know how Lenny's gonna take it, and it terrifies her. She always, _always_ knows what Lenny is thinking; this blank is a bullet in her heart.

When she gets home, she drops her bag and jacket, kicks away her boots and waits for Len to emerge from the kitchen. He's on the phone, but as soon as he sees her he instantly knows something is off.

"I'll call you back, Mick," he mutters without taking his eyes from Lisa, then closes the call. "What-"

"We need to talk," Lisa begins before he can ask what's wrong.

Len scowls. "That's never a good premise."

"I saw Erika today," she says. She's so stiff and tense she might shatter if he just touched her. "About my sickness."

"It's not cancer, is it?" She sees fear creep up Len's features. "Lise-"

Lisa bites her lip, inhaling deeply as she seeks for the right words, trying to muster the guts to spill the truth and actually face it.

"It's not cancer,” she promises. "Lenny, I don't know how to tell you..."

"Just spit it, for fuck's sake!" he snaps, and through his anger Lisa can see the petrifying worry. How does she deserve someone who cares so much about her?

Horrified, she hears herself sniffle. This isn't her: Lisa Snart doesn't _sniffle._ She has to force herself to look at him as she wraps her arms around herself and whispers: "I'm pregnant."

It's like a stab. And it's not like she didn't know before, but saying this out loud makes it all real and so much harder to bear.

Len's silence and stillness hurt. He just stands there, pale and motionless, and stares at her like he doesn't really know who she is.

"You're _what?"_

Lisa's lips stretch into a nervous smile. "Yeah."

"We're always careful," he argues, and it angers her like it's an open accusation, like it's _her_ fault this is happening.

"Ironic, isn't it?" she says with a sour grimace.

A small, remote part of her cannot help thinking that perhaps, given how the odds were all _against_ it, this baby was probably meant to happen.

Len glances down at the ground; his voice is paper-thin when he carefully starts asking: "Is it-"

"Don't!" Lisa yells harshly. The mere idea that he could ever doubt her kills her a little inside. "Don't you dare ask me _that! _You know damn well it's yours!"

Len gives her a sorrowful apologetic look. Somehow, Lisa's fury fades as quickly as it came and all it leaves behind is helpless fondness when Len walks up to her and wraps his arms around her in a strong embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs in her ear, and Lisa feels a little better now that she can abandon herself to the reassuring warmth of his body. "I'm sorry," he repeats, ever so softly, stroking her hair. He pulls back slowly and his eyes flicker questioningly across her face. "How do you feel about this?"

Lisa scoffs feebly. She appreciates him asking but it's gonna take time before she can answer this question. Time they don't have, because there's a deadline ahead of her and she needs to figure things out as soon as possible. No, not _she:_ they.

"I don't know," she exhales. Len's mere presence is making everything more bearable. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it." She rests her forehead against his and lets out a long sigh. "This was never an option."

Len's hands come to rest on the sides of her neck; his thumbs start tracing soothing circles on her cheeks.

"None of this was ever an option," he says as he gently brushes his lips over hers. "And yet here we are."

It takes a few seconds for Lisa to register how relaxed he is compared to her. He's far from the burning panic that's barely allowing her to breathe, far from her anxiety and her inability to process the situation. Which doesn't make any sense, because this is as unexpected to him as it is to her. They never talked about children. Aside from sharing half of their DNA, it never crossed their minds that their family would ever need any more members: she, Len, and Mick were just fine on their own. They never really made actual plans for their future, but if they had any, they certainly wouldn't involve kids.

So why does Lenny seem so calm about this?

Lisa pulls back just enough to scrutinise him with a slight frown. He holds her gaze impassively, only a hint of something unreadable disturbing the nearly perfect blankness of his expression. But Lisa knows him like no one else in the world does: she can sense a smile even when there isn't really one.

"You want this," she breathes as realisation suddenly hits her.

Len looks down guiltily, and that's her answer. Lisa feels betrayed: she's not supposed to be the only one struggling with her feelings, here.

"It's your call," Len soothes. "I'm with you whatever you decide."

"This is not only about me," Lisa retorts. It comes out milder than she intended. For some reason, Len _wanting_ to have this baby is more unsettling than the baby itself.

"It's your body, your decision."

"My body, _our_ decision," Lisa insists. She may not know how she feels about this whole thing, but she sure as hell isn't going to take it all upon herself. “It's your kid, too."

The subtle smile hidden behind Len's facade becomes an actual, full smile, just for one second; it disappears in a blink when Len shakes his head.

"What I want doesn't matter."

Lisa grabs his hips and squeezes: "It matters to me. Lenny,” she urges, trying to meet his eyes. “You want this baby?"

Hearing her own voice pronounce the word _baby_ is strange. Funny how she always considered herself as the baby in the family, so far.

There's a shred of uncertainty in Len's look. Lisa can see he's trying to choose his words, but it doesn't matter how he says it: she already knows what he's gonna say and she knows he's afraid to say it.

“You do, don't you?”

"Yes,” Len finally admits, still looking guilty. “Now what?"

Lisa bites a corner of her lip. All she can think about right now is how much she loves him and how much she's afraid of disappointing him.

"I don't know,” she admits. She cups his face into her hand and dares a shy smile. “But it's a start."

Len nods, that sort of nod that's more like a surrender rather than an acknowledgement.

“How far along are you?"

A painful knot forms in Lisa's throat.

_Tick tock._

"Four weeks."

And, of course, the next question is the hardest one:

"How long do we have to-"

He trails off, and Lisa is glad, because she isn't ready to deal with what he leaves unspoken.

_Decide if we keep it or not._

She can't even recognise her own voice as she licks her lips and mutters: "Eight weeks."

*

The antiemetics Erika prescribed help only so much with Lisa's sickness: a week passes and her weight drops by another two pounds. She takes her acid folic and iron pills meticulously but doubts any of their content makes it into her system: there isn't a time of the day when she isn't feeling nauseous and when she looks at herself in the mirror it's like she sees a ghost of the Lisa she knows. Her face is starting to look dreadfully thin, hollow cheeks and sharp cheekbones, and the beautiful curves of her body are fading, bones surfacing everywhere. This isn't good.

Len cooks her healthy foods, stuff that her stomach is supposed to tolerate. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Len never tires of trying.

“I hate this,” she groans with her head over the toilet bowl. It's three in the morning and this is the third time she has had to rush to the bathroom only to kneel there and cough out nothing but air.

Len hands her a wet towel and eases her to sit back on her heels. He runs a hand up and down her back, waiting for her breath to even out, then pulls her to himself and they just sit on the floor, her back to his chest, his arms around her, his lips on her neck.

“I'm sorry,” he says. He's been saying this a lot lately.

Lisa rests her head back on his shoulder, riding a minor wave of nausea with deep breaths.

“If you keep saying that because you think this is all your fault,” she pants. “You're absolutely right.”

She feels him grin against her skin. “I'm fairly sure this is the kind of job you can't do without a partner.”

She laughs, or tries to. If she stays still enough, she can almost pretend she's okay.

It's not really the sickness that disturbs her, though it is definitely an issue; it's the awareness that she's responsible for somebody else's life and well-being. Lisa was never a responsible type: having Len looking after her at all times was a blessing but at the same time she was never forced to grow up, not really, and she's always found it easier to run from stuff rather than deal with it. Problem is she can't run, now, because the issue literally lives inside her: wherever she goes, it will follow. Unless she does something about it – which is hardly an option, with Len being so invested in the idea.

"You never wanted children," she blurts out of the blue, eyes fixed on the wall in front of them. She's not accusing him or anything, she just wants to understand.

Len adjusts his grip around her waist, props his chin over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, I never thought having one with you was an option."

It's not what Lisa expected, but it's something she didn't know she needed to hear: she's the reason, she's what makes the difference. He doesn't just want to have a baby: he wants _their_ baby.

"Is it, though?" she wonders.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Lisa turns slightly into his embrace, nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck. "Come on, Lenny,” she sighs. “We share a parent – _the bad one._ Not the best premise to qualify for mommy and daddy of the year."

Len's lips press against her forehead. "We're nothing like that son of a bitch," he replies resentfully.

"We're criminals, though. We have seven safe houses and no home... What sort of life can we give to a child?"

She realises Len misunderstood her observation when she feels him freeze.

"You wanna give it up?"

"It's not what I said."

"Then what?" he almost shouts, and it makes Lisa cringe.

"Please, don't raise your voice like that," she begs. She understands his emotional state but she wishes he understood hers, too. Len immediately softens: he holds her tighter, kisses her lips lovingly again and again as he whispers: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

“I don't know the first thing about taking care of another human being,” Lisa complains, a bit discouraged. She never does something she isn't sure she can't master, and this challenge seems a little beyond her abilities. “I can barely keep a plant alive for a month."

"I'm pretty sure that, unlike a plant, a baby won't let you forget it needs to be fed," Len points out. Lisa elbows him in his abs.

"You know what I mean."

"I do,” says Len. “But you wouldn't be alone.”

No, Lisa muses with a warm flutter in her heart, she wouldn't be alone.

She's never been.

*

When Lisa asks if Leonard wants to go with her to her next appointment with Erika, he doesn't need to think twice: had it been up to him, he would have been there the first time, too.

"Ree, you remember Lenny?" Lisa asks when they arrive.

Erika Jonsson steps forward with a mischievous grin dancing on her lips. She's as beautiful as Leonard remembered her. "You never forget the face of the man who threatens to kill you if you ever hurt his baby sis," she says as she shakes Leonard's hand.

He returns the grin. "The threat is still standing, Doc.”

"It was Lisa who broke my heart," Erika stresses, and Leonard's grin widens proudly.

"Attack is the best defence. I taught her well."

"There's a couple of things I taught her, too."

"And I was so eager to _learn,"_ Lisa giggles, making Leonard scowl at them both.

"Are you two really flirting over an ultrasound?"

"No need to be jealous,” Erika winks. “I know she's all yours."

“Don't forget that.”

Leonard meets Lisa's playfully annoyed glare and smiles. He's nervous about this examination: he's aware that Lisa hasn't been doing well and her constantly dropping weight is a big red flag, but at the same time he's also selfishly excited because this ultrasound is going to show them the baby for the first time.

When Lisa finally lies down on the stretcher, Erika pours some blue gel on her stomach and smears it in circles with a wand. Lisa's belly is perfectly flat, nothing betrays what's going on beneath the smooth skin; Leonard can't wait to see it swell, to see the baby grow, feel it move. If he's ever going to feel it at all.

An odd, squishy sound fills the room and Erika points at a dark blob in the middle of a lighter area.

“That's your baby, guys,” she informs them. “It's about the size of an apple seed, at this stage.”

Both Leonard and Lisa stare at the screen speechlessly. There's not much to see, but he doesn't care: he _can_ see it – he can see his and Lisa's baby – and it's a little overwhelming.

"It it going to be healthy?” he somehow manages to ask, unable to take his eyes from the wobbly picture. “I mean, genetically wise,” he elaborates, finally turning to Erika. “What with me and her having the same father." He finds Lisa's gaze and sees she's wondering the same thing.

“Children of close relatives only develop major health issues after several generations of inbreeding or if both parents carry genetic diseases,” Erika explains politely. Leonard is extremely grateful that she doesn't use any specific term to address his and Lisa's relationship because, as far as they're concerned, they're just two people who are in love and want be together. Erika seems to understand and accept this, which means the world to both of them. He can see why Lisa likes this woman so much. “Everything is fine here, as of now,” she conveys with one last glance at the screen. "Besides, neither of you has or carries genetically transmittable diseases. We've already excluded any anomalies, so we can safely say that your baby is going to be perfectly healthy."

Leonard exhales in relief. Half of his worries have just been wiped away.

"What about her?” he inquires. His hand squeezes Lisa's as he turns to look at her. “She can't seem to get any better."

This time, Erika doesn't try to hide her concern.

"It seems that she has a pretty severe case of morning sickness,” she says, handing Lisa a towel to clean herself up. “In some cases it can manifest throughout the day. It should get better soon, but if it doesn't we'll have to consider a few options."

Lisa's brows furrow. "Such as?"

"Shots to keep the nausea at bay, for starters.” Erika turns off the screen and puts on a reassuring smile. “No need to worry about that now. Let's see how this progresses, okay?"

*

"This is a terrible neighbourhood to raise a child," Lisa remarks, scooping spoonfuls from the huge jar of lemon ice cream in her lap. It's the only thing she can keep down these days.

Len flings an arm over her shoulders. "It's not like our whole lifestyle is very kid-friendly."

"We would have to retire and move, “ Lisa continues. “Find a decent house and settle down."

It's not the worst perspective, all in all. Leonard would miss the thrill of robbing banks, but there's nothing he wouldn't do to keep his family safe.

"We could,” he says wistfully. “We have savings, investments... Money's not an issue."

Lisa curls by his side, rubs her face against his arm like an attention-seeking cat.

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out."

"It's not like I've been able to think about anything else, lately," Leonard admits. He may or may not have already put down a couple of plans.

Lisa grins, gives him a kiss that leaves a taste of lemon on his tongue.

"Yeah, I've noticed how you've got your head in the clouds all the time. Getting sentimental, Lenny?"

"Forgive me for having feelings, Lise,” he retorts curtly. If he isn't allowed to get sentimental for his own kid, then when is he? “I'm sorry I care so much.”

He doesn't see Lisa's punch coming: it cuts the air out of his lungs.

"Don't even go there, you selfish jerk!” she hisses. “You think I don't want this? I do!” She hits him again, thick tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes. “I _do,_ okay? But I'm terrified-"

He shouldn't be smiling. He should be offended and mad, but he's getting so used to her mood swings they don't even touch him anymore. So, instead of snapping back, he just pulls her back to himself and plants a kiss in her hair.

“Relax, Psycho,” he half laughs. “Let's keep your pressure under control.”

Lisa snorts but melts into his caresses.

"Would we even be good parents?” she wonders, sniffing, as she resumes licking her ice cream off the spoon. “Would we be able to give a kid everything they deserve?"

"I would do anything for our kid,” he says without a hint of hesitation. “As I would for you."

He doesn't need to say more: Lisa is perfectly aware that she's the one person in the world Leonard would do anything for. Soon, hopefully, she won't be the only one.

"You would be an amazing dad,” she concedes, a fond warmth in her voice. “You did good with me."

"You don't have to talk me into this, you know?” he jokes. “You had me at _'I'm pregnant'.” _He makes a short pause, and in the silence he can almost hear her think. “By this I don't mean I'm not terrified, too,” he clarifies. “It's just... The kid's in there, Lise. I know this was never in our plans, but... I can't help feeling responsible for this little life. I just wish you weren't so sick all the time."

Lisa shrugs. "Morning sickness usually subsides after the first trimester. I just have to hold on for a few more weeks."

Four, to be precise. Leonard can hardly believe they've gone from counting the days to an abortion deadline to looking forward to the end of the worst part of the pregnancy so that they can finally take a breath of relief.

"So we're officially doing this?” he dares to ask cautiously. It's been implied for a while, now, but he needs to hear this from her, loud and clear. “We're having this baby?"

Smiling, Lisa wraps an arm around his waist and lazily cuddles up.

"I guess we are, Daddy."

*

But as days go by, her symptoms don't subside.

After yet another sleepless night, Len scoops up Lisa from the bathroom floor. She's sweaty, weak from the vomiting and lack of sleep.

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

Lisa moans against his neck. "They're just going to shove an IV into my arm and send me back home."

"You look like shit,” he protests firmly. “I'm scared, okay?"

"I'm sorry my sickness disturbs you, I'll try to puke my guts out more quietly."

"Don't twist my words,” he sighs. He sounds as tired as she is, probably more. “I'm seriously worried, Lise."

Lisa feels awful for this. Seeing Len so distressed shakes the ground beneath her feet: he's the strong one, her rock, the one who's always carried all the weight on his shoulders for her. She wishes there was something she could do to take that fear from his eyes.

"I know, I'm sorry,” she mutters. “Just take me to bed, please."

She realises how light she's become by how easily Len walks to the bedroom. She was never so easy to carry: muscles and curves were always her trademark and now she lost them, lost the feminine grace of her body. She wouldn't change this if she could, though: she doesn't care about her beauty; she only wishes she was strong enough to safely carry this child to term.

"Can I at least call Ree?” Len pleads after he eases her down on the bed. “Maybe she can-"

Lisa rests back on the pile of pillows, gestures for him to join her. "She told me what to do when things get bad,” she says. “I just need to stay still and breathe."

Len sits down by her side, strokes her hair, caresses her face.

"What can I do?"

Lisa closes her eyes, inhales and exhales slowly, every inch of herself feeling limp and brittle.

"Stay with me," she begs, though she knows he wouldn't leave her if the world was ending.

"Always,” he says softly, lying down next to gather her into his arms. “Always."

*

"If she carries on with the pregnancy, is it going to pose any threat to her?"

Leonard's question makes Lisa turn to him with an outraged glare. They've been arguing about this a lot: despite wanting this kid with every fibre of his being, he thinks her health comes first; Lisa doesn't give a damn about herself, by now she's too invested in this to even consider other _options._

"The first few weeks have been pretty hard on her,” Erika says. “But statistically-"

"I don't care about statistics, I care about _her."_

_"Lenny,"_ Lisa scolds, but it's useless. If she doesn't want to ask the nasty questions, he will.

"No,” Erika intervenes. She seems uneasy. “He's right.” She looks at them both, hands joined before herself. “We should consider the whole picture: the baby is healthy, but you're not. Your body has been severely weakened by the sickness and scarce nutrition. The IVs are helping, but if the vomiting doesn't subside soon-” She stops right there, and Leonard has a feeling she can't bring herself to say what he fears she has to say. But this is her job, and Erika is a professional: no matter how close she is to a patient, she can't withhold the truth. So when she looks up and meets Lisa's gaze, Leonard knows they're not going to like what she's a bout to tell them.

“Lisa,” she sighs gravely. “I'm sorry but, given your physical condition, there are high chances you might lose this baby before you hit the third month."

*

Lisa doesn't show a hint of emotion until they get home.

When the door closes behind her, her stoic mask crumbles. Leonard nearly doesn't catch her in time when her knees give in and she collapses into his arms.

“This isn't fair,” she sobs against his chest. “Why did this happen at all if we're just gonna lose it like this?”

Leonard feels the tears stinging in his eyes; a thick lump in his throat makes it hard to breathe, to speak. There's a tightness in his chest he's never felt before.

“I'm sorry, Lise.” It's all he can say. Everything else would be a lie. “I'm so sorry.”

They end up curled into each other on the floor, Lisa's sobs mingling with Leonard's silent tears. He wants to tell her it's gonna be alright, that they're going to get through this, all three of them, together, but he can't utter a sound. White lies would only do more harm.

He rocks Lisa and wipes the wet trails on her face, tells her that, whatever happens, they'll always, always have each other.

It's cold comfort, but it's all he has to give.

*

It's the beginning of the eighth week when it happens.

They're making lunch, Lisa humming songs under her breath as she puts down the plates and straightens the cutlery Leonard has already set. He doesn't register that the singing has stopped until he hears the plate crash on the floor.

“Lenny,” Lisa cries, bent over herself with her hands clutching her stomach. “Lenny, I'm-”

Leonard's heart skips a beat when he sees the blood soaking her jeans.

“We need to go to the hospital,” he says as soon as he regains a shard of lucidity. He's frozen to the bone.

Lisa nods, but the way she tremblingly looks at him tells him they both know what's going on.

_It's over._

*

It all happens so quickly Lisa doesn't even know how she finds herself alone surrounded by nurses and doctors.

The rush to the hospital.

Len calling Erika.

Someone putting her on a stretcher and pushing Len away when he tried to follow.

She's been stripped of her clothes and an IV has been shoved into her arm. The cramps in her abdomen are still there, they feel like she's been torn from the inside. The nurses and the doctors are yelling at each other but their voices are distant and muffled in her ears.

And then Erika's face appears above her, half hidden by a white mask.

“I'm here, Lisa, look at me,” she exclaims urgently. She places a hand on Lisa's cheek and tells her to breathe. “Look at me, honey,” she repeats. There's a smile concealed behind the mask.

Lisa does as she's told; as her breath slows down, the sounds around her become neat, her head clears out.

“It's okay, sweetheart,” Erika says gently. “You're not losing the baby, okay?” Her cool fingers keep brushing soothingly over Lisa's forehead. “It's just a placental abruption. The cramps and the bleeding are due to a small separation of the placenta from the uterus. It's not good, but it's not that bad, either. It can be dangerous, so I'm going to keep you under observation for a few days, but your baby is safe. Do you understand?”

Lisa nods. She didn't get everything Erika just said, but the one thing she got is the one she didn't dare to hope she would hear: the baby is safe.

Her chest hurts from the hyperventilation. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the blood stain spreading between her legs; she feels sick.

“It's gonna be okay, I promise,” Erika squeezes her hand. “Lots of rest and you're going to be as good as new.”

It's too good to be true, Lisa isn't sure she can believe that. All she wants right now is to have her brother back.

“Can I see Lenny now?”

Erika gives her a warm smile. “Of course you can. I'm gonna send him in. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

It's only a few seconds but it feels like forever. When Len finally appears on the threshold, it's like they haven't seen each other for years.

“Lise!”

He rushes to her and takes her hands into his. He's frozen and shaking; she hasn't seen him like this since she was a child.

“Lenny,” she sighs, burying herself into his hug. It's like her body can't decide if she wants to cry or to laugh, so the result is a little bit of both.

“How are you?” asks Len, pulling back just enough to be able to look into her eyes. “The baby?”

Lisa's hand rests upon his on her belly; she gives him a watery smile.

“We're okay, both of us.”

She explains to him what Erika explained to her and slowly Len starts relaxing. It takes a while for some colour to come back to his face.

“You're so much stronger than you think,” he says, looking at her in awe.

“I've had a good role model,” she replies, and it causes a twitch in the corners of Len's lips.

“We're gonna get through this, Lizard. I know we can.”

Lisa lets her eyes flutter closed and finally allows herself to succumb to exhaustion.

They can do this. Now she believes this, too.

*

When Mick comes back to town and proposes a night out to catch up, Erika grants Lisa full permission to go, as long as she behaves, which she happily promises to do. Bed rest has been a nightmare for the past few weeks and she really needs to get out of the house, if only for one night.

Mick hugs her tight and spins her around before Leonard can stop him. When he puts her down, he frowns at her. 

“What happened to you? Why're you so skinny?”

“It's just a bug,” she says dismissively. “I'm gonna be alright.”

She _has_ been doing much better lately: the sickness has reduced to sporadic episodes and she's been able to eat and keep down more and more food. She's even gained back a couple of pounds, which according to Erika is a huge sign of improvement.

Mick observes her for a few seconds. Leonard can tell he's not remotely buying any of that, but Mick doesn't press further: he grunts a non-committal reply, wraps one arm around each Snart and walks with them into the pub.

Lisa is happy: she hasn't had some fun in a long while and having Mick back is per se a medicine. They choose a quiet spot and Mick orders beer for everyone. Leonard exchanges a surreptitious glance with Lisa and she gives him a light shrug. He can handle two beers.

Mick, however, isn't easily deceived: in between tales of his successful jobs in Keystone he somehow manages to notice Leonard has been stealing sips from both his own glass and Lisa's, so he turns to Lisa with a funny expression.

"You ain't drinkin'.”

Lisa crosses her arms over the table, takes a salty cracker from the bowl front of herself and pops it into her mouth.

"Perceptive, Mickey."

"You usually can outdrink anyone in here."

“Not tonight, sorry,” she conveys with a pat on his shoulder. "I'm feeling a little under the weather."

Mick's eyes scan her head to toe. "I can see that."

Lisa makes to take another cracker, but Leonard sees the colour drain from her face and knows what it's about to happen.

Lisa jumps to her feet. "Excuse me."

"Do you-" Leonard begins to ask.

"It's fine," Lisa says before she dashes towards the restroom.

Leonard knows by the way Mick keeps eyeing him that something is simmering. Mick is no idiot: he knows them both well enough to guess they're hiding something from them.

"What's wrong with her?"

Leonard stuffs a handful of crackers into his mouth. "Just a bug,” he mumbles as he crews.

"Why do you look like it's all your fault, then?"

_Caught like a deer in the headlights,_ Leonard thinks, annoyed. He guesses he should have seen this coming: after Lisa, Mick is the person who knows him best.

"It's complicated."

"That's a stupid answer."

Leonard drains his beer, then grabs Lisa's glass and takes a sip from it, too. "It's all I can give you, for now."

Mick nods, not entirely convinced.

"I got a job,” he says. “Big one. The kind of job that'll settle you for life. You in?"

Leonard curses inwardly. This is a juicy bone and he's dying to throw himself at it: more money wouldn't hurt, but he doesn't _need_ it and he can't take any chance right now. He won't leave Lisa and he won't risk ending up in jail with the kid on the way. He promised himself and Lisa he would keep a low profile and he has all intentions to keep this promise.

"No," he says dryly, and it pains him to utter it as much as it pains Mick to hear.

"What d'you mean no?"

"I mean not yes."

Mick's forehead creases; he either thinks Leonard has lost his mind or...

"Lisa's thing. Ain't just a bug, is it?"

Or he's getting too close to the truth.

"She's-" Leonard closes his eyes, screws them shut as he downs the rest of his second beer in one go. This is gonna be an interesting night. They're gonna have to tell Mick, eventually. "She should be the one to tell you."

"Tell me what?” Mick waits but no reply comes. He slams a fist onto the table. “Len! I swear to god, I'm gonna punch you if you don't-"

"Easy, Mick. She's not dying or anything."

"Then what the hell's goin' on here?"

A hand touches Mick's shoulder, making him wince and turn around: Lisa is back from the restroom, looking greenish and slightly flushed but generally good.

"Don't worry, baby," She says as she slumps down into her chair. "It's nothing permanent."

"So this jerk says," Mick grumbles. Despite his calm, the way he looks at Lisa and then at Len betrays concern.

Leonard seeks Lisa's eyes, looking for any sign she doesn't want to break the news to Mick just yet. But Mick is family and Leonard isn't surprised when he gets an imperceptible nod in return.

"So?" Mick urges impatiently.

"So," Leonard drawls. "She's pregnant."

All the concern on Mick's face drains away almost instantly. He huffs out something like a laugh, glancing back and forth from Leonard and Lisa like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"No shit,” he comments amusedly. He sends Leonard a meaningful smirk: “So that's why you look so guilty, huh?"

Leonard kinda wants to punch him, but opts for an elegant, dismissive shrug.

"Takes two to tango."

"Yeah,” Mick guffaws, slamming a hand over Leonard's back. “Well done, both of you!"

"Thanks," Lisa giggles as Mick wraps an arm around her neck and smacks a loud kiss on her cheek.

It's such a joy to see her like this. Too many times Leonard thought he would never see her happy again

“I'm gonna get you some water,” he announces. Erika has recommended to keep Lisa hydrated after these episodes.

He takes longer than necessary to reach the counter and get the water.

Lisa and Mick deserve a few minutes by themselves.

*

"So you got a bun in the oven."

"It's more the size of a plum, right of now."

“Boy or girl?”

“We don't know yet.”

Mick smiles. He seems genuinely happy for them.

"That idiot's struttin' like a fuckin' peacock,” he says.

Lisa rolls her eyes. Everybody says that, even though nobody knows why. It's so good to share the news with someone. They couldn't have kept this from Mick for much longer, anyway.

"I know.” She lets out a blissful sigh. Everything seems so easy now that the worst has passed. “I would have never thought he'd be so happy about something so unpredictable."

"Guess this wasn't exactly in the plans."

"Euphemism."

Mick tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, strokes her hair like he used to do when she was a kid and woke up screaming with her head full of nightmares of her dad beating her up.

"Is everything alright with that?” Mick nods at her belly with an eloquent look. “You ain't lookin' good."

Lisa brushes a kiss on his cheek. "Morning sickness is a bitch. Don't worry, I'm doing much better now."

"Tell me you ain't doin' this just because of Len."

She can see why he's asking: she still finds it hard to allow herself to fully relax; she's just entered the second trimester and everything should be easier from now on. Easier doesn't mean fail-safe, though.

"No, I promise. I'm as happy as he is. It's just... there's so much that could still go wrong. I was close to a miscarriage a couple of times."

The mere memory of that chills the blood in her veins. Mick must sense her unease, because he pats his large hand over hers and gives her a loving smile.

“You guys are warriors. I'm sure you got a warrior in there, too.”

Lisa feels a surge of love for this giant grump who's been her guardian angel for most of her life. She wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for Mick: he saved Lenny's life, helped them both escape from a life of misery and abuse. As far as she's concerned, he's a hero.

Their little moment is abruptly interrupted by a loud commotion on the other end the room: a guy is flying across the counter and another one is launching himself at the man who threw him... which happens to be Len.

Mick curses.

“How the fuck did he get into a fight ordering a damn glass of water?”

He gets up at the same moment Lisa does. He grabs her wrist before she can move a single step.

"The hell you think you're goin'?"

"To get Lenny."

Mick points a finger at her and pierces her with the most fatherly glare she's even seen on his face.

"Listen up, kid: you wanna be a mother? You better start actin' like one. You got a responsibility towards this little bean. I ain't gonna let you anywhere near danger."

"But-"

Mick pushes her back down into her chair.

"I'm gonna go get Len. You and Snartie wait right here."

Grudgingly, Lisa sits back and watches him stride across the room and knock out three guys in three seconds.

“We've got a quirky family,” she muses, running a hand over her belly while another two guys land over the counter. She grins. “Aren't we so lucky?”

*

Lisa is fast asleep as soon as she touches the bed.

Leonard and Mick pour themselves a couple of whiskeys as they tend to their battle scars in front of the TV. It feels like the old times, when they would stitch up each other using cheap vodka as disinfectant and then drink themselves to sleep while plotting their next heist. They've come a long way since then.

“Lisa's gonna kick your ass tomorrow.”

Leonard sinks down into the couch letting out a long moan of relief. His joints can't take a fight like they used to.

“Those morons had it coming. You would have roasted them on the spot if you'd heard what they were saying about her.”

Mick snickers with him: they've got a very rich collection of guys they've beaten to a pulp because they were being disrespectful to Lisa. It never gets old.

“Do you think we're crazy to have this baby?”

Leonard's question lingers in the air, louder than normal in the silent stillness of the dead of the night. Sometimes _he_ thinks they're crazy: people like them, with what they've seen and endured... can they really face something as huge as bringing someone into the world and properly take care of them?

“You two are crazy alright,” Mick says with a chuckle. “But the kid's got nothing to do with that. You seriously think you ain't fit for parentin'? You love that girl more than anything in the world,” he snorts. “If someone asked you to shoot me in the face to save her life I'd be dead before they were done askin'."

There is no way to stifle the big grin spreading across Leonard's mouth. Mick might be a bit colourful, but he makes a point.

“Yeah. Sorry about that."

Mick lets himself fall back into the couch next to Leonard.

“Don't beat yourself up,” he mumbles. "I'd pick her over you, too."

And it's a joke, but it's also _not,_ and it reminds Leonard why Mick, besides Lisa, is the only person in his life that _stayed._

"That's why I trust you,” he admits. “I know you're gonna be there for them if anything happened to me."

Mick rises a brow: "I'm pretty sure both Lise and the kid would rather have you, so try not to do anythin' stupid, you asshole."

"Wasn't planning to, but shit happens."

"Over my dead body."

He means it, Leonard knows he does. It's not just a figure of speech. Leonard doesn't know if it's the alcohol tampering with Mick's filters or if Mick is spontaneously displaying feelings; either way, it's good to hear. He's glad they have Mick: his presence, however inconstant, makes everything less frightening.

"So,” Mick exhales after a long pause. “You're gonna be a dad. Bet you're so smug with yourself."

If Mick knew how much Leonard blames himself for what Lisa had to go through during the first few weeks, he would probably reconsider his words.

"I'm not sure I'm entitled to feel so proud." Leonard stares at his scraped knuckles. “This isn't a path we were ever supposed to take.”

"Bullshit,” scoff Mick. “You two are literal soulmates. Screw what people say. You wanna have this baby? Then have it. You're both a mess as human beings, but you got what it takes to raise a happy child."

Curious, Leonard tilts his head to one side.

"Which is?"

Mick indignantly smacks his chest.

"Love, you idiot!"

Leonard smiles to himself.

_Love._

It's not much, is it?

Yet, somehow, it's everything.

“Yeah,” he agrees wistfully. “We've got plenty of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for way too long and my day off has been productive, so I can finally close this series. (Or can I?)
> 
> The themes of this story are very delicate for multiple reasons and if you disapprove you shouldn't have read in the first place, right?
> 
> To those who don't mind: thanks for reading! I'm aware this was much more angsty than the two other parts of this series but it just couldn't be otherwise. Please, not that this comes between "In Search of Silver Linings, We Discovered Gold" and "We Love Like Fools", so, for those who haven't read the other two stories: you'll probably enjoy them more if you read them in the proper order.
> 
> Was it good? Was it meh? You tell me.


End file.
